


A tad too late

by SuperMazeWolf



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Kid Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers grew up with Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperMazeWolf/pseuds/SuperMazeWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Howard's dead?" Disbelief dripped off of the words Steve forced out of his mouth, and he stared at Jarvis with an oblivious expression. <br/>"Yes, sir. And he requested that I send Master Anthony to you for a family. It was his last will." <br/>Steve stood still.</p>
<p>[In which Steve raised Tony since a toddler after Howard and Maria died, and later on met Bucky who had miraculously survived, frozen in the mountains. Then HYDRA took Tony and made him into the soldier, hence replacing Bucky's role as 'The Winter Soldier.']</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Howard's dead?" Disbelief dripped off of the words Steve forced out of his mouth, and he stared at Jarvis with an oblivious expression.   
"Yes, sir. And he requested that I send Master Anthony to you for a family. It was his last will."   
Steve stood still.

-

"I really don't know," Steve said with a helpless huff, his fingers twitching as the baby in the crib looked up with eyes as round as the moon, "Jarvis, I don't know if I can-" "Sir, Master Anthony is requesting to be held." The baby kicked his small, chubby legs with a fierce yet oddly adorable growl, honey eyes shining with something that made the edges of Steve's lips twitch. "How do I-" "Support the neck and head, sir, and support the back and legs. Cradle him, it's not hard once you try." 

The baby squirmed with impatience and his small hands shot up, making sloppy, grabby motions at Steve with a loud whine. "Oh, I don't..." Steve's voice trailed off and he leaned over, lowered his hand and lifted the baby up with one, smooth motion and the baby cooed. "Hey, buddy," he said with a hushed voice, eyes on the tiny baby as it pushed his head into the crook of Steve's neck. "Okay, okay," Steve said with a small smile, pushing his nose in the tiny bit of hair on the top of the baby's head.

He heard Jarvis leave the room with a small chuckle, and Steve breathed in deeply. The baby gurgled and squealed at something, and Steve grinned, eyes hazing with tears. "God, what happened?" He asked himself quietly, starting to rock forward and backward slightly when the baby sniffled. "Ssh. What's your name, Anthony, was it?" The baby cooed again, almost like a confirmation, and Steve sighed.   
Anthony squirmed and Steve pulled him again, held him in front of him while cradling his the nape of his neck and his back, and Anthony puffed his cheeks out and reached for Steve's dog tags. "Blurgh," Anthony informed, tugging at the tags and giggling his approval, "Dada."   
Steve froze.

Oh.  
This was really happening.   
Steve sat down on a chair near the crib and Anthony leaned on his chest in his arms, still aimlessly tugging on the tags. "Dada," Anthony said again, making Steve's heart shatter, "Dada. Ah. Ah."

_-2 weeks-_

"Mr. Jarvis, you really don't need to," Steve started, bouncing Anthony up and down on his knees as the baby squealed in delight. "Sir Howard Stark requested it, Mr. Rogers. And there really is no reason to feel sorry, Master Anthony seems to like you," Jarvis explained with a friendly tone, looking pointedly at the tiny toddler with a fond expression, "I would feel honored to give you a place to live as well."   
Steve nodded gratefully and forgot about the wetness in his eyes when Anthony reached up and tapped Steve's nose. "Dada," he said with a curious voice, "Dada?" 

Jarvis smiled and stood, respectfully bowing. "Shall I get you something to drink, sir?" Steve nodded with a small smile and blew a raspberry on Anthony's cheek, smiling when he squealed and tugged at Steve's dog tags, something he had developed an interest in. "Dada, ah." Steve chuckled and kissed his forehead.  
"I guess so, kiddo," he whispered, tilting his head when Anthony made a noise of joy with puckered lips, "Anthony."   
Anthony giggled and sloppily imitated a kiss to Steve's chin.  
"Dada." 

Just for a moment, Steve forgot about his past and hugged Anthony to his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note; This is if Steve raised Tony, so things will be different. Graduating from MIT at the age of 17 won't change, but middle school and such will be different. 
> 
> And this chapter is just the aging process of Tony Stark. Next chapter's gonna actually do the whole plot I'm going for.

-2

"Dada, dada, no, no, no!" Tony squealed, reaching over with chubby hands and gripping Steve's dog tags excitedly, "No, no, no!" Steve chuckled and lowered the small cup that he had previously taken from Tony. "You want your milk?" "Dada," Tony said with puffed cheeks, "Dada, milk!" Steve shook his head but handed the cup to Tony and watched as he wrapped his small fingers around the cup. "Careful, baby," he said, sighing and rolling his eyes when Tony dropped the cup and spilled the liquid everywhere.

"Dada, no!" Tony screeched, yanking Steve's dog tags down when Steve moved to get a napkin, "Dada, milk!"  
Steve felt himself smiling.

-4

"Daddy, I fixed it!" "What did you fix?" Steve called out, opening the door to Tony's room. "The light!" Tony said, pointing at the specially designed lights made by Howard long ago. Steve ignored the pang of sadness and sat next to the boy. "What was wrong with it, honey?" "It flickered for no reason," Tony said with a small frown, "See? There's no more flickering."  
Steve grinned and ruffled his tufts of hair. "No more flickering indeed. That's great, honey. I'm proud of you." Tony smiled back and squeaked as Steve held him up and onto his shoulders. "Jarvis was making some pie for us. Do you want any?"   
"Yes!"

-8 years old

"Dad?"   
Steve's eyes flickered open and he turned his head slightly, rubbing his face with a yawn. "What is it, darling?" He asked tiredly, sitting up when he noticed Tony's puffy eyes, "Tony, what's wrong?" Tony huffed slightly and ran forward, taking a small leap and landing next to Steve. "I had a nightmare," he said quietly, "I'm scared." 

With a small smile, Steve wrapped an arm around the boy and pulled the sheets up. "It's just a dream, honey. What did you dream of? Do you want to talk about it?" Tony sighed quietly and snuggled closer. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, shaking his head, "It was scary."   
Steve kissed his forehead and rubbed his back comfortingly.

-12 years old

"Dad!"   
A blur flew at Steve and he opened his arms, smiling giddily as Tony yelped when he twirled him around. "You made it," Steve said with a bright grin, letting Tony down and ruffling his hair. "It's not _that_ amazing," Tony huffed with an annoyed expression, but his excited grin ruined the stony expression. "You graduated middle school at 12, Tony, that's pretty amazing," Steve replied, pulling him into a hug, "I'm proud of you." 

Tony looked up at him for a moment before saying, "Dad, come on. I gotta introduce you to a friend I made. You know that guy I mentioned, Rhodey?"   
Steve nodded and followed the bouncing child, gripping his hand tightly. 

-17 years old

"Dad, you came!"   
Steve smiled and pulled Tony into a tight hug, ignoring the noise of protest. "I managed to finish the mission before the due date," Steve said, "Sorry I missed the graduation." Tony shook his head and pulled away, holding the diploma up. "At least you came. Lookie!" He smiled toothily and Steve took the diploma. "I'm proud of you."   
"I'm gonna go get a PhD," Tony announced.   
Steve smiled. "And you gotta lead Stark Industries, huh?"   
"Yeah, it's cool. Mr. Stane got mad when I said that I'd appoint Pepper, but I don't care. I didn't like him."   
Steve smiled even more and hugged him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It escalates pretty fast. Just FYI. ;)

"Dad, about this HYDRA thing, just between you and me, are they as dangerous as people say?" Tony asked suddenly, and Steve looked up from his book and narrowed his eyes at the 20- year old spinning around on a chair.

"If you're thinking-" "I'm just wondering. Since you always go on missions, and you always fight them. Got worried. Kind of." Steve's expression softened and he sighed, set his book down and leaned forward. "They're ruthless, insane, and full of bullshit. They don't hesitate to fulfill orders. It gives everyone an advantage and disadvantage." 

Tony nodded slightly before saying, "You know, dad, I know you're gonna say no at first, but I can help you. I can coordinate their movements and make weapons that can go against theirs." "No." "See? I'll convince you somehow. As of now, I'm hungry. Take me to eat." Steve rolled his eyes and stood, but smiled when Tony yawned. He was still like a baby to Steve, small, clueless and precious.  
Too precious. It made him worry. 

-22 years 

" _Dad? Dad, that you?_ " Steve let out a sob of relief and pushed another HYDRA agent away, pressed the intercom tightly into his ear. "Tony, honey, where the hell are you?" 

" _I dunno, but dad, I found a file. Your friend's alive, it says that 'James Buchanan Barnes is located in cryochamber number 498, ready to be tested.' Go get him. I'll find a way out._ " "Tony, I can't leave you-" " _Dad, this is a guy you've known from childhood. This whole mission is to retrieve missing men, right? So hurry your ass up. I can get out, I'm in a room with a door. I can get out. Go!_ " "I should've never agreed to let you help." " _Hey, I helped quite a bit. Hurry!_ " 

And Steve ran as fast his legs would take him, into a building and down a hallway, paused momentarily when he saw multiple chambers inside lf a small room. "498," he whispered to himself, forcing his mind away from his son, "498." His eyes traveled quickly, tearing his eyes away from the other bodies frozen in other chambers. 

He didn't notice his intercom crackling and shutting off, nor did he notice when it flew out when an agent attacked him. 

\- 

Tony had messed up. Bad. The moment he saw Obadiah Stane talking to an HYDRA agent, he had bolted down a hallway, into a room with files upon files. He knew that it was too convenient, a plan to trap him, but he did it for his dad. His dad was suffering from nightmares every night, about his friend named Bucky, and for once Tony wanted to help his dad instead of recieving help. 

The door shut and locked behind him, but Tony paid no mind. They wouldn't kill him, he knew it, they would probably use him. He had time, so he sorted through the files, used his com to tell his dad all the information he had gathered and told him that he could make it. 

Which was a lie, obviously. 

When a faint beeping started and when a small, red light started flashing in the room, Tony cursed loudly and abandoned the files, ran up to the door and tried the handle, then kicking, then unlocking or breaking but nothing worked and he gave up. He walked over to the bomb labeled 'Stark Industries' and sighed quietly. So, one small error in his calculations, they were only keeping Tony's low-key hope of staying alive for just a little while. 

"Dad, can you hear me?" Silence, and Tony pressed a hand to his face but managed a small smile. He tried for 6 minutes, calling out, but no avail. A voice message, perhaps. Yes, that would do.  
"Dad, they're using the undefusable bomb I made a while back. I have, ah," Tony peered over at the bomb, "3 minutes. I just wanted to say, um, I love you. I really do, and I hope that Mr. Bucky person is all well and good. I'm actually really fucking scared, but I'm hiding it quite well. And, well, I actually don't want to die. Really. I feel a bit too young, and I feel even more angry because Mr. Stane was the one who set this up. I ignored it, you know, I thought they'd keep me for the brains, HYDRA, but I think Stane wants me gone to inherit Stark Industries. And he's been illegally selling my weapons, which I found out from a file in this room." 

He swallowed and shut his eyes. "I love you, dad. I love you, and I'm scared but I still love you and this is my fault. Not yours. Don't waste your life regretting my absence, kick HYDRA's ass and make sure to say hi to Mr. Barnes for me. Also, arrest and fire Obadiah Stane for me. I'm giving all my heritage to you, but you know that already." He paused and a sob escaped his lips. "I love you, dad," he said with a smaller voice, "I love you. God, this is sappy. Thanks for sticking with me, and being proud of me. Thank you." 

The time was already down to 26 seconds. 

"I love you, daddy," Tony whispered, and he sent the message. He slid down the wall and let his head thunk against the wall. "God, pull yourself together," he told himself. 

10\. 

I don't want to die. 

9\. 

I don't want to die. 

8\. 

I don't want to die. 

7\. 

I don't want to die. 

6\. 

I don't want to die. 

5\. 

"It's gonna be fine. You're Tony fucking Stark," Tony murmured. 

2\. 

Bye. 

1\. 

I don't-

A loud ringing, and he saw black. 

\- 

An explosion. Steve turned his head, eyes widening, and his hands faltered from prying the door that held his friend open. Who...? 

His com was out. 

His eyes widened. 

Not his baby, not his child, not- 

He tore his eyes away and pulled the door open, caught a man with a missing limb that was freezing and he felt his body spasm with a sob. Bucky groaned, shifted in Steve's arm. 

Steve wailed, and Bucky seemed to recognize him because he stilled, put a hand on his back and pressed reassuringly. 

His wails bounced off the walls.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been 2 years since the accident. Steve was not coping well.

It made it worse that they couldn't recover Tony's body.

No DNA, no body parts, no human ashes, nothing. Just a burnt room with soot and dust covering everything still intact, and it almost made Steve laugh because the bomb that was used was Tony's bomb, like he had said in the voice message. 

There had been a camera inside of the room, apparently, and the camera inside of the room had survived miraculously, so they had traced back and renewed the footage of Tony being stuck inside of the room, sorting files into different rows of people and items. Steve replayed it over and over every night, listened to the voice message along with it. Tony's eyes were still bright in the shitty footage, he held out one piece of paper, stuck his tongue out in concentration and put it back down if it was seemingly useless to him. It was always, when Tony held out a piece of paper and opened his mouth with glee, it was always then when Steve would start crying again because the file he had held up was Bucky's file, Bucky who was alive, who was in therapy but was alive.   
All because Tony was brave and stupid enough to ignore the threat looming inside of the room. 

When Steve had heard the explosion, when he had started to cry pathetically into Bucky's shoulder like he had done countless times in the past, all he could think was the fact that he made himself forget about Tony, his _son_ , so that he could find a friend that would be in the same place no matter how long it took. When Bucky had reacted and put a hand on Steve's back, he teetered off the edge of control and screamed because this wasn't fair at all. Tony was too young, had been too young. 

Now, though, like he had said, it was worse because Tony was most likely not dead. It pained Steve to think, even say this, but he didn't have the closure he wanted. He didn't have the evidence he needed to move on from this event and live his life. Now, it was constantly in his mind. What if HYDRA had taken Tony's body? What if Tony had actually managed to make it out, but was somewhere no one could find him?   
At this point, even death seemed better than the thought of Tony being a prisoner.  
Because he knew HYDRA. The group was ruthless. They would do anything to get what they wanted. 

He needed closure, but he didn't have one.  
Bucky, he decided, for now, Bucky.  
In the back of his head, Tony's last smile lingered.   
His son's last smile.  
Steve's chest heaved with a sob.

-

Tony was firmly, positively and absolutely sure that he was dead. He was 100 percent sure that he was dead, actually, more than that, 100.98 percent sure that he was dead. Okay, so that wasn't that much, but it made the difference. The point was, Tony was dead, and he knew it.   
But then he was yanked back from this oblivion he didn't necessarily mind, and the first _welcoming_ feeling he got was a severe pain in his chest spreading up and around his whole body.   
Welcoming his ass to hell, yes, that was the right term.

Then he made the conscious decision to open his eyes and see what the hell was going on, but this decision was the worst decision he had ever made in his life. Firstly, he saw red. Everywhere. Then men, with tweezers and all kinds of bloody tools, and a tray with literal chunks of meat on it. He didn't realize it was his own, a hole in his chest, a few bones gone, and he started to thrash because wow, that hurt like a son of a bitch.   
The people didn't let him up, though, just held him down and shoved something into his chest and started to work even faster because Tony was jerking and turning pale at the same time while turning blue and the whole situation was grim.

His eyes could pick out only a few more things before passing out, a few pieces of metal, mostly shrapnel, bloody and placed on a tray next to him, a battery or something related to it set with wires hanging off of it, and-  
Okay.  
So he was alive. 

"Get him ready. We're putting him under right after this."  
Oh.  
That didn't seem-


	5. Chapter 5

Steve walked into Bucky's room quietly and folded his arms, stared at the man sitting at the edge of a simple bed who was staring out the window. "How're you doin'?" He asked, watching carefully as Bucky turned his head slowly. A weak smile made its way onto Bucky's face and he sighed quietly. "I've been better, but it's fine. What about you? Ya' doing okay?" 

Not really.  
"Yeah, same here. Been better."  
He'd been better when Tony was standing next to him, a frown on his face telling Steve to get his shit together.  
Now, he was gone.

"You... Ya' lost a boy?" Bucky asked uncertainly, and Steve nearly choked on his own spit, "I heard that a kid went in a bomb trynna find me. Was that your... Kid?" Steve nodded and hoarsely replied, "Yeah. Took him as my own son. Biologically Howard's kid. Crazy, huh?"  
Steve paused and reached into his pocket, took out a small audio input machine that Tony had created not long before his... His death. "Tony. Anthony Edward Stark. He, uh, he told me to say hi to ya' when I found you." He paused, swallowed heavily, "Before the room blew. He died by his own damn bomb. Stupid shit."  
Bucky looked at him with an expression Steve couldn't quite read, perhaps guilt and sympathy, and he motioned Steve to walk closer. "Can I listen to the voice message, or, whatever it's called? People kept talkin' 'bout it when I was in the therapy room."  
Steve let out a huff, smiled a little bit and sat down next to his friend. "Sure. Don't laugh if I start crying." Bucky shook his head while scoffing but grinned slightly either way.

-

So Tony wasn't doing too well. 

When he woke up again, he was in a different room than last, with different people standing around him. He couldn't move, but he was upright, and something told him that it'd been quite a while since his last... Uh, last conscious moment.  
Then came the sudden pain, and a man standing in front of him.

"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded."  
A sharp pain in the back of Tony's head, and he jerked forward. "Fuck you," Tony said, but the man didn't even twitch.  
"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded." 

And it just kept going.  
Going.  
Pain just became a thing, and...  
He didn't know what was what anymore.  
Didn't know how much time had passed, didn't know how he had gotten there, didn't know...  
What _did_ he know? 

_I love you, daddy._

He lashed out, snapped forward because dammit, his dad was still alive, he had to get back.  
The man seemed unsatisfied with the sudden reaction, because the pain just kept increasing, and he started talking again, louder and more direct.  
"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded." 

Calm your mind my fucking ass, Tony thought to himself, but his thoughts were growing weaker already. 

No, no, that wasn't right, his dad, he had to get back- 

"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded." 

Get back, go back, go back...  
Go back to where, exactly?  
Where...

"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded." 

Go back... To...

"Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what is best. What is best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded."

Everything went blank for Tony. Everything stopped for a moment and...  
Who was he?  
Who was he?  
Where was he? 

"Listen carefully. This is an order, and compliance will be rewarded."  
Of course. Listen. Order. Compliance. He had to comply.  
"Your name is no more. You do not have a name. You do not have an identity. Your only home is here, you will listen, you will comply, do no more. You will not question. You will not show pain, emotion, nothing. Do you understand me?" 

Compliance...  
Compliance-  
"Yes sir."

The man sat back with a smug grin.  
Something about it roused anger in Tony, and just for a second, a name flashed in his head.  
Steve. 

"No, that's-" Tony started, but he was pushed back, "Fuck you, _fuck you_ asshat-"  
The man scowled.

"Start it again. This one's gonna be tough." 

\- 

"And I'm... You know, I worry because... He might have been taken, ya' know?" Steve said, looking down at his hands.  
"He's probably okay, Stevie. Somewhere safer." 

Steve sighed quietly. "I hope so."


	6. Chapter 6

Steve took a long, stuttering breath and pushed the door leading into Tony's room open.  
5 years. It took 5 years to muster up the courage to enter his deceased son's room without breaking down and closing right away. 

He ignored the dust in the air and stepped through, almost smiling when he saw the Captain America posters plastered around his room, diagrams of new ideas scattered around like Tony had been studying for exams and the overused computers on the desk. There was a half-eaten muffin on the table, disgusting but in one piece, and a few empty bottles of water topped over on top of each other, a pencil with its led broken, aggressive writing on a tiny piece of paper.  
Aside from the moldy and disgusting muffin, everything looked exactly the same as the last time he had went in there.  
It hurt.

He sat down on the red-and-yellow bed, an unusual but good selection of colors, and folded his legs with a small quirk of his lips. He could almost imagine Tony sitting on the seat in front of the dusty desk, typing away while blabbering to Steve about his newest ideas and inventions. His eyes wandered around the room, noticed his diplomas displayed in frames on top of a shelf full of books and comic books. 

It hurt, but there was something about the familiarity that calmed him a bit.  
He didn't stop the tears that fell this time, instead hummed softly and smiled through it. 

He didn't notice Bucky at the door, staring at him with the brotherly love that he was used to, until Bucky knocked on the opened door. Steve looked up, wiped the tears off of his face and nodded at him. "How ya' doin'? Sorry for, uh, intruding," Bucky said quietly, looking around the room with curious eyes, "Is this your son's...?" 

Steve nodded and stood, walked over to the desk and brushed away dust. "Yeah, he was a... a little genius. Graduated from MIT with honors at 17, really smart." He chuckled when Bucky whistled in response, peered over Steve's shoulder and used his one arm to move a piece of paper out of the way.  
"Huh," Bucky said softly, making Steve turn his head. Steve's throat constricted when he realized what Bucky had found. 

It was labeled 'James Buchanan Barnes,' with rough sketches of prosthetics, from arms to legs to parts of bones and on and on. "He predicted that you would be alive," Steve said softly, "That little shit, he made plans for a prosthetic for you if he was right." He saw the surprise flash on Bucky's face. "How did he know?" Bucky asked, and Steve laughed, eyes threatening to tear up again. "He's a genius, Buck, smarter than Howard. He... I told him about you when he was young, and when I was... The mission to retrieve captive men, Tony knew..." He choked on his last words, and Bucky put an arm around him.  
"Bet he was sweet," Bucky said with a small sigh, "Bet he was a nice kid." 

Steve shook his head and smiled despite his crying. "He was the cheekiest shit I'd ever met before. He had a heart of gold, though." Bucky paused, then gripped Steve's arm. "Tell me more about the kid." "He was 7 years younger than you. Would've been 27 if he was alive." "Huh." 

Tony was safe. Steve decided to believe that now. 

\- 

"-Wouldn't expect a genius to engage in combat, would they? We aren't using his brain unless we need it. He's gonna be a solider. No argument here." 

The asset lifted his head, still foggy and weak, but stared at the men in front of him. 

"Fine. Training won't be easy, though, it'll take at least year-" "Make it faster. We have machines. Make him ready in a month. No exceptions." "Fine." 

The asset... Asset...? Why was he the asset? Who was he? "Soldier. Sit up." The asset pushed himself up, refusing to flinch when he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head. He had not been ordered to show pain, so he couldn't. 

Ordered. 

"Combat training will be brutal. You will not rest unless it is perfected. Do you understand?" "Yes sir." "Good." The asset stared, eyes unwavering. "Get up. We'll start immediately." "Yes sir." "Good." 

A weapon. He was a weapon.  
Nothing more. Nothing.  
Nothing.

\- 

"-Extremis in his system. He's going out on missions to kill, it will boost every sense and every movement. He won't age as fast. It will be more effective." And the men plunged a needle into the asset's neck and he made the mistake of biting down on his tongue. The men slapped him after injecting the amber liquid into him, beat him. Punishment. It was necessary. 

"You. Will. Not. Show. Pain."  
The asset kept a straight face. 

"You have a mission. Your first mission." The men didn't stop beating him, but spoke in unison without pausing. "You will eliminate James Buchanan Barnes. You will bring Steven Grant Rogers here, unconscious but alive. You have 2 weeks. Exactly. Compliance will be rewarded." "Affirmative." The men stopped. 

"That's too much for him on his first mission," he heard a voice say with a desperate edge, "What if he remembers?" 'Is his programming perfect?" "Well, yes, but-" "Then he can handle. If it's too much, we'll wipe him again and send him out on other ones. We need Rogers now." 

Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes.  
The asset paused. 

No.  
Affirmative.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve was sitting in front of the tombstone of Tony, where a body wasn't placed but memories were.  
"Hey," he said quietly, eyes on the ground but a fond smile on his lips, "Sorry I didn't visit."  
Silence. 

"You know, Bucky's doing great thanks to you. He has both arms now, although one's metal. But you made that." Steve paused and pressed his hands together. "I'm still kind of worried that you might be taken, but, you know, I gave up on it. Even... Even if you are, what can I do, right? All I can hope is that you... Uh, you got closure. I got closure. Maybe. And, well, I'm just gonna assume that you're in a better place, you know, safer, unless something happens, which I doubt it would." He sighed.  
"I told Bucky about you. He was really grateful. He even said that he would've wanted to know you if, you know, if you were still with us. I guess, well, he helped me a lot. I didn't visit you because I was scared. I think I'm not anymore. Not now, at least." Another pause. "I think I need to say this out loud. If you _are_ still alive, I'll one day find you. If you aren't, well, I'll move past this. I won't forget you, you always told me to never forget you as a joke but I think you meant it. I won't. And I'll try to visit as much as I can." 

He let out a shaky breath and pressed a hand to the stone. "I hope you can- I mean, I hope that you're in a... A safer place."  
Steve pressed his palms to his eyes.

-

Bucky walked down the huge hallway of the mansion, his eyes landing on the familiar door in the end.  
Anthony Stark's room. 

He rubbed his new, metal prosthetic and pressed his lips together before hesitantly pushing it open. The smell of paper and dust filled his nose as he walked in, making him swat at the air, but he didn't stop until he reached the desk at the corner of the room. He stared down at the papers, only a few missing after Steve took it to the agency he was working for to build Bucky his arm. Nothing made sense on it, diagrams of something on it that made Bucky blink with a puzzled expression.

He then looked over at the shelf with books upon books and frowned, an out-of-place, tiny, compact, and old journal caught his eyes. He pulled it out, ignoring the nervousness of being in the room and ran a finger over the intricate design on it. It was simple, neat, yet oddly complicated, symmetrical and geometrical sketches covering the old cover. The journal was probably just a blank-covered journal, because the sketches were clearly pencil made, and he came to a conclusion that the person named Anthony had drawn on it. A good drawer, Bucky noted, and opened it to the first page.

He felt bad for snooping into a deceased man's journal but curiosity clawed at him, so he started reading.

 _Anthony Edward Stark- May 29th._  
It was in a messy form of cursive, starting from thinned lines to bolder lines. He turned the page.

 _Probabilities are small. Graduation tomorrow. Middle School was a breeze. Dad's ecstatic._  
There was a large gap before the next words on the bottom of the page.  
_Probabilities aren't rising. Forget about it. The project wasn't gonna work in the first place. Scratch._

Bucky felt confusion, but ignored it and went onto the next page, where a tiny rip bled into small words in the corner.  
_New project. Probabilities are growing. I researched a bit. James Buchanan Barnes. Dad keeps muttering the name in his sleep. Got worried._

He stopped. 

\- 

The asset silently watched the busy city of New York, standing on the roof of a building. He could see the mansion not far from him, in a place where most buildings were slowly fading out. He dropped off of the top and into a small alley way that led to the mansion's area. He adjusted the mask on his face and pulled the goggles onto his eyes, pulled the straps tighter to his vest and proceeded forward without hesitation.  
He ignored the nagging in his stomach. 

The asset stopped only when the mansion came into view, and he looked around briefly before locating all of the cameras secured around the building. He found the spots where the camera wouldn't come into view, the length of how long each camera interlapped with each other, then...  
He quickly jumped up and onto a tree, the only place where he could hide without becoming to obvious, and watched as a car pulled over onto the driveway.  
Steven Grant Rogers. Top priority. Take back to base without killing. 

The cameras weren't into view yet with the car. The asset dropped down silently and quickly moved over to a different position, where the car would stop briefly to make a turn, then readied his gun.  
He popped the car's tires and the car twirled almost graciously, flipped over and smashed into a wall near the alleyway where he had come from. 

He pulled the trigger multiple times, made the few people around the car scatter and run, then walked over to the car. As expected, Steven Grant Rogers pushed out and immediately smashed his signature shield into the asset's gun, and the asset kept his face blank as he flipped a knife out onto his palm and gripped it tightly, went forward and started the basic movements. 

Right, left, over, duck, swipe, side, jump, right, duck, it became a dance, the other man doing the opposite of what the asset did with the shield. At one point, the asset let go of his knife to grab the shield and yank it, ducked under and slammed the other man over his shoulder. The man grunted and jumped back up with ease, and the asset stared.  
Something...  
No. No. 

He scowled under the mask as a hand reached forward in a flash and tugged his goggles off, but the asset kicked the man in the chest before he could reach the mask. He was surprised that there were no police approaching them or people screaming, but it was better for him. His only mission was to take the man back and kill another. With a twist of his hips, the asset slammed his elbow into the man's stomach, prompting a surprised wheeze.  
He was a step too late from moving back, because the man grabbed onto the asset's mask and pulled.  
2 mistakes. Unacceptable. 

The man didn't do anything though, and the asset stood because there was something in the man's eyes that made him stop.  
"Tony?" 

The asset shoved the unknown emotion down and instead said with a flat voice, "Who the hell is Tony?"  
The man's eyes flashed with something.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve didn't understand.  
"That was Tony," he repeated without thinking, "That was my son. He's alive."  
Bucky put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, glared at the opposing men staring down at them. "Stevie," he muttered under his breath, "Stay composed." 

Steve ignored the remark and molded his expression into anger. "That was my son." "And he's legally dead," a man said back, refusing to miss a beat, "Besides, he wouldn't have blown up a car and shot rounds to kill you, would he?" Steve snorted and shrugged Bucky's hand off of his shoulder. "He wasn't going to kill me. And it wasn't..." He paused. "He was different. Controlled."  
"Controlled as in what, Captain?"  
A dark flash crossed Steve's face, and he barely noticed Bucky jerking back in shock. 

"It was my son. If you try to harm him, I will do the same to you." 

The whole room grew uncomfortably quiet, a few people shifting in their seats. "This is a matter for S.H.I.E.L.D to decide. Dismissed."  
Steve pushed himself up calmly and walked out. 

\- 

"His programming wasn't perfect." "There is no such thing as perfection. We only brought it up to the point of what humans consider perfect. I told you that it was too much for him."  
The soldier's head lolled to the side, eyes foggy. He was disoriented, his head muddy with exhaustion and pounding with pain.  
"Who was he?" The soldier called out suddenly, his finger twitching, "The man. Steven Rogers. Who was he?" 

"No one," his handler snapped, turning away from the man he was arguing with, "He was your mission." "I knew him," the soldier said flatly yet softly, "He knew me. Who was he?" His handler's expression grew cold and he slapped the soldier. "No one. He was no one and you are no one." The man looked up. "Get the gears rolling. I want him wiped, I'm sending him on other missions after this."  
The soldier sat still as they adjusted the machine on his head.  
He knew that man. Who was he? Who was- 

\- 

Bucky stood in the doorway of Steve's room, eyes narrowed. The man was crouched over on his bed, hands pressed to his lips. "Steve, what the hell happened out there?" Bucky asked after a long moment of thoughtful silence. 

"Car tires got shot. I got out, engaged in combat and I managed to get his mask off after a while of fighting-" "Who's _he,_ exactly?" "My son. Tony. I called his name, and he didn't attack. He stood there and asked who Tony was, then he just suddenly started backing away and running. Chased after him for a bit but I lost him." Steve stopped and looked up at Bucky. "That was him, Buck, he's... He's alive." 

Bucky sighed and reached into his pocket, took out the small journal he had been reading earlier. "I found this in the kid's room. A diary. Ya' knew about it?" Steve looked surprised, and reached out. Bucky tossed it to him and watched as Steve opened it with a soft look of fondness, fingers trailing. Then he stopped and stared, and Bucky waltzed over to his side. 

_I'm probably gonna die by my own technology. Scared. Why am I making weapons? Fuck. Fuck._

_Mission to retrieve captured men. James Barnes is probably going to be in a containment. Researched and theorized for a few weeks. Calculations are probably right. Made plans for prosthetics in case he lost body parts. Fuck._

_Right before the mission. Fixed dad's armor up. Made diagrams for later. I'm having a burger when I come back. If I come back._

_On that note: Prosthetics were upgraded. Added notes to make it easier. Dad's nervous. I think he knows. Maybe not. Mission commences in less than 15 minutes._

_Barnes needs to be there. Everything will be for nothing if not. Dad will be disappointed. I'll be disappointed. Don't want that. Please be there James._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on vacation! Woo! Sorry if I don't update, I'll be back soon!

Steve awoke with a loud gasp, beads of sweat covering his forehead.  
He groaned and rolled over, stared at the wall while breathing in calmly. He hated this.  
All of his nightmares consisted of his son being ripped to shreds by the explosion, but collected and stitched back together with thin wires, all while souless eyes stared at him with accusation, _you could have saved me, dad. You didn't. I'm gone because of you._ It made him feel sick to the stomach, sometimes made him even puke into the bin next to his bed, but they were slowly becoming manageable.

A knock and the creak of his door opening made him tense, but Bucky looked at him with kind eyes and he felt like the small man before the serum again.

"Hey," Steve croaked, wiping a tear threatening to fall and sniffling like a child, "Did I wake you?" Bucky shook his head and rubbed his metal arm, the arm Tony had designed, and closed the door behind him. "I couldn't sleep," Bucky confessed, "But I hear you an' I came." He sat next to Steve as Steve sat up and sighed.  
"Ya' had a nightmare?" Bucky asked, and Steve nodded, closing his eyes momentarily when Bucky pulled him into a side hug with a brotherly love.  
"Tony," Steve said quietly, "He was... The same nightmare, Buck, but his eyes, his damned eyes seemed so real an' I thought- I thought he was actually starin' at me. In my bedroom, an' I freaked out in my sleep."

Bucky huffed and ruffled Steve's hair, and made Steve slap his hand away playfully, with a bit more brightness.

"Ya' know, if he's alive an' all, if he's actually Tony," Bucky treaded carefully, "Then we can go get him. Just the two of us, no authorities trying to shove a stick up your ass." Steve chuckled and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "That sounds good," Steve mumbled, "Would be nice."

-

Bucky occasionally wondered what the boy would have been like if he had met Bucky, without being blown up and somehow alive in HYDRA's hands.

From the pictures and few videos, Anthony Stark wasn't a bad looking fella, more attractive than handsome but handsome none the less. Golden brown eyes and fluffy brown hair, a stubble starting to form, he resembled Howard but was far more better looking.  
But if he wasn't dead, if it was what Steve had proclaimed, then Anthony wouldn't be like the man in the pictures.

He pressed his index finger to the metal arm and let out a breath quietly.

-

"Hail HYDRA."  
The asset slit the man's throat, clean and simple, and let him drop to the floor.  
Mission accomplished. Report to handlers.

The asset flipped his knife and put it back in his pocket, his face hidden with overgrown hair and a mask, his goggles in his pocket. He dared to look back at the mission, a business man, apparently. The asset stalked out and jumped, hauled himself up and up and up until he was on top of a tall building and started towards the base.

He was rewarded by being left alone after he reported back, left in the comfortable silence he preferred over the slaps and screams from his superiors.

In the back of his head, something lurked, kept him on the edge. In the silence, the lurking something got close, so close, and the asset shook his head and pressed against his closed eyes.  
The mechanical blue crystal-to-metal in his chest gave the whole room a quiet hum, a blue hue, shadows, and the asset hunched forward. He had nothing to think about. He just needed his next mission.

But the something lurked.  
_Who was he?_  
But who was _he?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from vacation, it was great!

Steve didn't want to do this, but what choice did he have? All he had now were missions and a friend missing a limb.  
Months passed since seeing Tony, months and months but there was no news about the man. 

But.

Something distracted him, something about S.H.I.E.L.D, something about the operations and something about the people, something was wrong. They were changing, the whole facility most agents without homes resided in was suddenly crowded with unknown agents who muttered to themselves, and some even spoke in other languages.  
And one person had whispered Hail HYDRA in his ears before walking away, so there was one reason why everyone wad acting differently.

"Rogers, we need you to get this chip into the main headquarters of HYDRA, it's a virus that will give us the time to break through the security and access their files. You can take Barnes with you if you wish," Fury said and oh boy, Steve was itching to just run.  
"HYDRA, huh? Yes sir."  
Tony. If HYDRA was truly infiltrating S.H.I.E.L.D, then maybe Tony would be used.  
Maybe.

But men flooded into the room with small guns, and Steve was out.

-

Bucky stared up at the ceiling of Anthony Stark's room, back on the soft carpet on the floor. It was calming in there, silence and the ticking of a handmade clock. Steve didn't seem to mind either, sometimes he joined Bucky in the silence of the room to think.

There was a picture of Anthony hanging up on the wall, new, the picture taken before the apparent operation that saved him. Steve had put it there and just walked out, so Bucky was constantly looking at it in awe.

In the picture, Steve and Tony stood side by side, side hugging, and other men surrounding them, all smiling brightly. Even Tony looked happy, teeth showing, little crinkles in the corner of his chocolaty eyes. His stubble was pretty visible too, in that picture, and he reminded Bucky of the fellas he would have chased once upon a time.   
It was like Bucky knew the man, though, and something about it made him sad that he wasn't alive to say hello to Bucky with that same, sweet and bright smile.

And then the door crashed open, Steve yelling at him to get up because they needed to run.

"What?" Bucky asked, confused, but didn't say anymore after he saw the urgency in Steve's eyes. "HYDRA, they're taking over S.H.I.E.L.D and I think they know that I caught on. Ran to the mansion as fast as I could. Let's go!"

-

The asset stared at the wall in front of him, waiting for his handlers to find him.  
His right arm was stuck between pieces of the building that had blown up, and the asset was sure that his arm had shattered.

The mission had somewhat succeeded, blowing up a building that threatened HYDRA'S bases, looming over head, but the asset had jumped out too late because he swore he saw a man- no, _the_ man running out of a mansion not far from the building.  
Who was the man?  
Why had he hesitated?

"There he is," he heard a man say, and the asset's eyes moved up to his handler, "His arm is crushed."  
"Get rid of it."  
"What?"  
"The arm, we can replace it with a mechanical one, it will help with the missions."  
"It-"  
"We can add gadgets to it. Add different things, experiment on him. Go, get rid of it."

The asset saw his handler kneeling down, ordering the other men with armor to hold him still.  
A loud noise of metal against metal made him freeze, and something dug into his arm.

The asset screamed out in pain.


End file.
